


Error Catch

by sarahofcroydon



Category: Snatcher
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Gen, Hideo Kojima, Metal Gear - Freeform, Sega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:52:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahofcroydon/pseuds/sarahofcroydon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After <i>Snatcher</i>, Metal and Gillian are heading to Moscow when Metal makes something of a breakthrough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Error Catch

It was on the way to New Domodedovo airport that Metal Gear experienced its first ethical dilemma.

Gillian was so far on the path to intoxication that he barely noticed, though it was understandable considering the hoops he'd had to jump through to have Metal allowed a seat next to him on the aeroplane. His weapons, too, had proved troublesome to have transported to Moscow, and it was only at the last minute all the permissions came through. He was a Junker, yet despite everything that had happened, a mere Second Lieutenant didn't have that much clout with Interpol. He'd ordered himself a drink within the first half-hour and pointedly ignored Metal's disapproving whine, gazing mournfully out of the window.

"Blood alcohol level 0.04 percent," Metal sulked, and Gillian grunted. He was tempted to order another to aggravate his companion further.  
"You shut up. It's just a beer. You'd be doing this too, if you could drink."  
"That is a matter of opinion," Metal said, and continued to stare determinedly at the back of the seat before it. If it was staring. Maybe it was determining the air pressure or analyzing fabric patterns or something. Gillian had no idea. Maybe its cameras were turned off. He wouldn't have cared, but Metal had seemed just as off as he had been feeling, recently. Gillian had felt gutted in the days after learning about his devastating past. Metal had been gutted, literally; Gillian couldn't blame his robot companion for feeling a little unsettled.

"What're you up to, Metal," He asked, and Metal's reply confirmed his suspicions.  
"Determining the extent to which the weave of the seat fabric could approximate a fractal," Metal said blandly. "Had I half of my former functions I would attempt to determine its composition."  
"Oh," Said Gillian, shifting in his seat. "Hey, you're not bitter about that, are you?"  
"No," Metal said defensively. After a period of introspection, it added, "My connection with JORDAN has been temporarily terminated due to the nature of the weather, altitude and this aeroplane's insecure network capabilities. For the time being, I am a self-contained unit. Until I am reconnected and rebuilt as well, I cannot approach maximum functionality."  
"That blows," Gillian said. "I suppose you're kind of like me at the moment. Missing a big chunk of yourself."  
"I'm not sure that's an appropriate comparison at all," Metal said, though the subsequent silence was interpreted by Gillian as agreement.

The sun was blinding over the clouds as they reached altitude, the hum and throb of the plane's engines lulling Gillian and evoking memories from his subconscious. It was as though they were spread before him like the clouds, tumbled over one another, merging and dissipating.

"I wonder if Random ever felt like us," Gillian said, turning to look at Metal on hearing the inquisitive turning of gears in its head. "Like a big chunk of him was missing, his history and stuff."  
"His memories were fabricated and installed," Metal said, "He was programmed to believe that those constituted his true history. He would not have suspected."  
"I don't know. What he said at the end... about getting his real self back. It seemed kind of... human, to me. Like all along he felt something strange. That something was missing."

Metal's reply wasn't scathing, like he'd predicted, but it certainly wasn't convinced.

"His comments came after he learned the truth of his identity. His core function had been hidden prior to that. To put it one way, his function was to be unaware of his function."

Metal paused.

"His function was compromised. Possibly the elimination of the new conflict this caused via self-destruction was the only satisfactory outcome he could see."

Another pause, hesitant this time.  
"I cannot predict."

 

Gillian was frowning, looking down into his empty can.

"I'm not sure there was that much difference between us. At least he seemed to get some kind of closure when he found out who he really was. Y'know, if a Snatcher can feel anything."  
He sighed, crumpling his can in an echo of his frustration.  
"Then again, I don't feel anything. Just blank. Like none of this whole... story belongs to me. God knows I still don't remember a goddamn thing about it."

Metal offered no commiserations or suggestions, gazing in the vicinity of Gillian's knees. An announcement was made over the smooth hum of the plane's engines, announcing their arrival in Moscow would take place in a few hours time.

"Say, Metal," Gillian said suddenly, having been musing on Random's sentience, "What would you have done if Random had survived? Knowing he was a Snatcher?"

"I'm not sure of the context of this question," Metal said, and Gillian spread the hand without a can in it as he tried to explain.

"Technically, our job is to eliminate Snatchers to the best of our ability, right? What happens when you meet a Snatcher whose own mission is to eliminate Snatchers? "

Metal made a sound, the robot equivalent of opening its mouth and shutting it again. After a few seconds worth of silence, Gillian turned to look; Metal was rarely speechless.

"Connection failed. I don't have the necessary functions to answer that question."

"Connection? What do you need to connect to something for?"

"JORDAN's neural capabilities supplement my own," Metal said evasively, and Gillian scoffed.

"I'm not asking JORDAN, I'm asking you. What if I was a Snatcher? What if, on this plane, without a connection anywhere, we found out that all along I'd been a... a... some kind of benevolent Snatcher and didn't know, like Random? What would you do?"

"Insufficient data," Metal ground out.

"C'mon. You'd have to make a decision. Could you take orders from a Snatcher?"

Metal fell silent.

For a few moments Gillian couldn't tell what it was doing, if anything at all. It sat as it had done most of the flight, but without the minute movements of its head or whirring of motors as it focused on something or evaluated each new announcement. Metal's complete stillness was disquieting, if not fascinating, and Gillian found himself attempting to make eye contact; camera-contact, he supposed it was. He started in violent surprise when Metal suddenly whipped its head around to face him and unleashed a verbal explosion.

"C-C-C-C-ccccondition satisfied!! In-in-in-suff-cy-cy-cyclic-cyclic redun-pppprrriority, err-errror-errror cat-cat-catch-catch..."

Gillian hurried to put his hands over Metal, trying to find a speaker to cover. Metal's noisemaking was attracting the attention of nearby passengers, as was the strange little dance of agitation it was doing.

"Resolut-t-t-ion im-im-im-app-approa-approa-seven-eight-nine-two-five-nine Gillian! Gillian! Gillian Gillian! Gillian!"

Gillian's knuckles were turning white trying to force Metal to stay in its seat. "What?! Be quiet, will you? What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"I would...I w-w-wou-would... Gillian! _Gillian!_ "

Gillian was anxiously looking up and down the aisles for approaching flight attendants, and felt rather than saw Metal suddenly still again in his hands. He could have sworn he felt the frantic ticking over of a processor somewhere inside that little body, a thrum and pulse of activity. As he looked down, it stopped... Metal had sagged back into the seat, the robotic equivalent of an exhaled breath, Gillian supposed. He tentatively withdrew his hands, looking down at his companion with suspicion and concern.

Eventually Metal spoke in a very odd voice. "In answer to your question, Gillian, the nature of my relationship with you would..."

A pause, and then a beep, and a robotic shudder.

"Innnnnnanswer to your question, Gillian, the nature of my relationship with you would not change."

Gillian stared, not quite sure if it was all over. Nothing else seemed forthcoming.  
"What on earth was that all about?" The experience took a step into the surreal as Metal deigned to answer, raising one little leg and looking at it as though fascinated.

"Hey!" Flicking his fingers against Metal's side seemed to bring the robot back to itself.

"I experienced a temporary computational error. Were you found to be a Snatcher, my relationship with you w-w-would not change."

Gillian found himself at a loss to explain this behavior, finally noticing how the alcohol was impairing his thought.

"Well geez, that's nice to know. Is there anything else I shouldn't ask you? I wouldn't want you to explode from the effort or anything."

"Don't ask me stupid things," Metal muttered, then said more audibly, "No, Gillian. You may ask me anything."

"Are you alright, now?" Gillian asked, and Metal was silent for just a beat too long before replying.

"Yes, Gillian. I am alright now."

 

 

It took a while to disembark from the plane once it arrived in Moscow. Metal's sour mood took a turn for the worse when it took not one but two air hostesses to wake an (apparently) sleeping Gillian, before it set off the alarms while passing through the security scan along with Gillian's bags and personal computer (something Metal never failed to be offended by). Gillian attempted to produce the forms attesting to Metal's benign nature as he sifted through his pockets to find his phone, which had started to ring only a good few minutes after they'd landed.

"Hello? Mika? Is that... oh, it is you. Yeah, yeah, we're fine..."

He glared at the security attendant, who was looking back and forth between Metal and the forms. He could only just hear Metal protesting its innocence above the hullabaloo of passengers trying to get through and Mika's concerned voice in his ear.

"No, Mika, Metal's fine too. What? No, he's all working... JORDAN? What? What's he saying, now? But you're contacting me, aren't you? Look, Mika... what? No, you're breaking up..."

He snatched his papers back, using an arm to haul Metal off the conveyor belt and onto the floor. The task proved difficult as he tried to avoid Metal's extended leg; the robot was inexplicably gazing at it again.

"I'll... I'll call you later. No- Mika! I'll call you- yeah, alright. I'll- bye. Bye!"

Passing his phone to metal, Gillian jostled through the crowds of people to find himself an automated luggage carrier and exhaled dramatically as he dumped his bags and briefcase. Metal tottered after him, standing by his side as he took the chance to lean on it and catch his breath.

"God, Metal. It's more trouble than it's worth. Why couldn't I have gone to... I don't know, China or something. Or just stayed home!"

Metal looked this way and that, tilting its head to listen to the announcements, and to examine the maps and signs on the walls. Gillian sighed, rubbing his face. He needed a shave.

"By the time we're out of here, it'll be night. C'mon... which way do we have to go?"

Metal paused. A steady stream of people were walking towards them, luggage carriers and family members in tow. "Follow me, Gillian," it announced, walking into the throng of people, glancing back to ensure Gillian was in tail.

"Metal," Gillian called, unmoving. "The sign says the exit's the other way."

Metal Gear hesitated before turning to come back.

"So it does."

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing as Harry made Metal, he can't be too complex AI -wise despite his huge personality (no offense Harry) so I figured that JORDAN is really the brains of the outfit at JUNKER HQ and does all the complex processing. Metal connects to him wirelessly all the time to evaluate Gillian's harder questions; not on the plane, obviously, and apparently not when he lands in Moscow!
> 
> I have a hard time believing that something made entirely out of metal parts could ever form something like a consciousness; I do, however, believe that something of a cyborg/robot that integrated biological parts (ie neurons) could. I read that scientists had created a calculator out of leech neurons; assuming this technology could be developed, the basis of this little fic is that Metal has a biological type processor, and Gillian's question leads him to break somewhat out of his programming. If he was entirely inorganic, he'd just short out... my theory here is that he struggled and succeeded in forming something of a new series of neural connections...  
> Metal breaking through of his programming, isn't that something of a scary idea? :P He could do anything. I figure here that Metal himself would be somewhat intimidated by this... it'd be like masturbation to him. I had another version where the first thing he did was scan Gillian to see if he was a Snatcher (illegally) but Metal seems far too neurotic for that. Just lifting up his leg for no other reason than to look at it is scandalous enough for him.  
> And it is a he. I tried fastidiously to use 'it', but it was hard. Edit; Oh! I also figure that Metal has been restored body-wise (mostly) to his former self; that Sony CD business is just silly.


End file.
